


Through the Frosted Glass

by Starsofgallifrey



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, Fluffy, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Mild Angst, Murder, Nygmobblepot, Post 3x22, Puppy Ed, Sex, Throwback, angsty, ice fic, oswald is still in love with ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-13 23:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11195718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starsofgallifrey/pseuds/Starsofgallifrey
Summary: When Penguin thaws the Riddler out because he needs his help, he's not expecting the side effects of Fries' solution. Temporary Amnesia. He decides to take advantage of the situation.





	1. The Burg that Sunk the Ship

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to some friends of mine for dealing with my ramblings during the making of this. I hope you all enjoy this. The second chapter is going to get a lot more intense.

Murder.

 

That was the revenge Oswald had desired at first. To gaze into Ed’s eyes as he killed him, steal the light from the man and watch him crumble and vanish into miscellanea. Ed was a weakness, an encumberment, there was no disputing that.

 

Yet here he stood, firefly at his side and gun at the ready, watching as Edward would slowly thaw out and return to him once again. Fries was on his other side, with his freeze gun in hand in case anything at all went wrong. Oswald tapped his fingers anxiously on the end of his cane as Bridgit started started expelling flames against the thick walls of ice.

 

It was unfathomable that the events stirring Gotham since the docks had led to this. They needed the Riddler now. Then he would go right back inside the ice…unless, _unless what_?! Them being on good terms again? Oswald shook his head. Highly unrealistic. Ed would _never_ stop. Not until Oswald was dead at the bottom of the river.

 

 _A desperate compulsive need to complete what you’ve started in exacting fashion._ The memory plagued him momentarily as he made contact with Ed’s frozen eyes. Ed would kill him again if given the chance.

 

That was a risk Oswald knew he couldn’t take. Even if the feelings buzzing around in his head still haven’t disappeared. His biggest weakness. And he needed to make sure he kept Ed as a spectacle to remind himself not to fall into the same hole.

 

The flames laps at the sides of the ice and water soon started to pool into the large plastic box they had placed underneath Ed. Oswald’s heart raced. He’d see him again, in the flesh. All those lonely nights he had walked into the iceberg lounge to observe his centerpiece, talk to Ed while he was frozen. It no longer mattered. Oswald felt silly having such a hypocritical mindset.  He was ready to get this over and done with, not wanting to risk his own weakness envelop him, while at the same time needing to revel in the short time he would be spending with the man he… _click_.

 

For fear of burning him, Bridgit had finally switched off her flame weapon and stepped back. There was barely a full of ice surrounding Ed now. Oswald could almost see his fingers twitching at the tips where they started to protrude.

 

“It should take another five to ten minutes,” Fries says. And the three of them stand and wait. There had been a new name around Gotham. One of power and perseverance, very much similar to Ed in the sense that the man did not desire to run Gotham. What he did desire was to run it into the ground, whilst gaining a name for himself. Observing the man’s crimes on television had made Oswald feel like a real gangster again. New life spilled into his veins, especially when the new criminal (and the police force had named him ‘The Criminal’ which was sarcastically unoriginal) sent out mind-boggling puzzles to the GCPD and other mafia heads that would result in their destruction if they did not solve them correctly.

 

And destruction had most _definitely_ ridden the city.

 

Oswald would have gladly ignored the discrepancies if the “Criminal” hadn’t set his sights on the newly founded Iceberg Lounge and Oswald’s vital underworld connections. Fourteen of his men had already died because of a puzzle he had failed to solve. That his whole team had failed to solve. Ed was the only one. The only one who solve these puzzles and not sweat a single drop.

Then, back to the ice he will go.

 

When Ed’s limbs start visibly moving beneath the ice, Fries grumbles something inaudible under his breath. Oswald’s focus shifts and he turned his head impatiently. “What is it, Fries?”  


“I _said_ ,” the pale faced man looked almost nervous for once. “Uh…”

  
“Spit it out,” Oswald demanded, hand pressing firmly down on his cane, practically denting the floorboards beneath them.

 

“I hope the side effects involving the solution I’ve procured don’t occur.” Penguins heart dropped in his chest momentarily.

 

“Side…you never told me there were _side effects_.”

 

“Nothing fatal…I’ve noticed it in some people I’ve…I just worry that he’ll be-” Fries didn’t have time to finish his thought before Ed crumbled and collapsed into the bucket of water beneath him, ice chips flying in several directions.

 

Oswald heard the familiar gasps and breathing patterns as the thawed-out man tried to catch a grip on the sides of the box. The subject of side effects aside, it takes every ounce of pride in Oswald’s body not to call out Ed’s name.

 

Ed’s hat had fallen off in the process and Ed pulls himself up on wobbly knees, ungracefully climbing out of the box. He was dripping all over the floor but Oswald hardly cared. Fries and Bridgit held their guns at the ready as Ed held his hands up in surrender.

 

He looked entirely confused and defeated. _Perfect._

 

Oswald was ready to explain to him the details of their soon to be short-lived partnership but when Ed’s eyes locked on his there was something in his gaze that quieted him. There was something wrong. Ed’s jaw falls open. “Mr…Mr. Penguin?”

 

Oswald swallowed. No. It couldn’t be.

 

“What am I doing here? Who are they?” Had the pitch in Ed’s voice risen an octave? He looked almost terrified, shaking where he stood. He was probably freezing. Oswald was speechless, and he looked desperately to Fries who was biting his bottom lip.

 

“Side effects?” Oswald whispered. Fries nodded.

 

“Amnesia,” he whispered low enough so Ed couldn’t hear. “The Limbic System in the brain may have received damage for being incase in ice for such a long period of time. I’ve tried my best to work those effects out of my solution, but to no avail. This should be, _has to be_ , temporary,” Fries explained.

 

Oswald felt his blood run cold. Amnesia. Ed couldn’t remember anything? Well... “When was the last time you saw me, Ed?” Oswald asks softly, gesturing for Bridgit and Fries to lower their guns. Ed relaxed and tugged at his jacket looking over himself in awe. The shiny green had been dulled by water but he still seemed astounded.

 

“Um. Oh! uh, In the GCPD. But it’s been a while since then.”  


Oswald took a breath. Ed was far behind. “How’s Kristen?” Oswald asks carefully.

 

“Alive and well.” That gave him the exact answer he was looking for. Oswald couldn’t help himself when he says, “Actually she’s not.”

 

Ed stuttered, his doe eyes growing wider. _God_ , he looked so innocent. Oswald felt his heart race at the possibilities.  “She’s…not well?”

 

“No. But it’s okay Ed, we’ll be taking care of you.”

 

Bridgit shot him a stern glance but he raised a hand at her and approached Ed. “This is your home now, for the time being in any case.”

 

“I’m very confused,” Ed said. Ed hated admitting he was confused, and Oswald liked hearing him say the words. Oswald could see the gleam in his eyes as he grew closer. At this point in his life he still adored Oswald, admired him with every fiber of his being. He hadn’t received a gaze like this from Ed since before Isabella had died.

 

“I’ll explain everything. For now, I want you to rest.”

 

“I’m not…I’m not tired Mr. Penguin.” Ed said it so gently Oswald felt his heart ache. There were a thousand voices in his head telling him this was a bad idea, that they _shouldn’t_ play along. But, got did Oswald at least want one day where he could be around Ed again and not feel tremendous loss.

 

“Please. I insist. You don’t have to sleep. Just lay down in my living quarters, won’t you? You’ve um, been through a long, _long_ day. I promise you I will explain everything. Soon.” Oswald watches with a calculated gaze as Ed agrees. Oswald leads him to his bedroom and allows Ed privacy, shutting the door behind him.

 

He hobbles quickly back over to Fries who takes one step back cautiously. “You knew this could happen,” Oswald accuses. “You knew and you still froze him for me?”

 

Fries gives an offended stare. “Sorry if I didn’t think you’d ever be needing him again, _boss_.”

 

“That wasn’t the deal. You said if I were to thaw him out, he would be unharmed.”

  
“And he is,” Fries deadpans.

 

Oswald throws his fists aimlessly at his sides and shouts, “You know that’s not what I mean!”

 

Ivy pops her head around the corner. “Is everything alright in here?” she says and makes her way completely into the room to see the empty box. She looks up at Oswald’s red face, his eyes blazing. “Did he get away?” she asks, unconcerned.

 

“No he’s here, but he doesn’t remember the past year and a half or something like that,” Bridgit explains while Oswald starts to pace, idly biting at his right thumb. Fries lets out a large sigh.

 

“He’s bound to remember at some point. You can’t lead him on until it’s too late and Nygma has the upper hand on you. He’ll kill you, right?”  


The words stung, but Oswald knew Fries was right. He would kill him, wouldn’t he? Oswald look towards his bedroom door wantonly. He desired nothing more than to be selfish in this moment, run to that room and make Edward his, but he knew the Ed that lies deep beneath that innocent exterior. And even then, they’d probably turn against each other as it was destined to be.

 

 _Do you believe in fate?_  
  


Fate just kept bringing them back together in some way didn’t it? The universe was teasing him, taunting him, bait being dangled in front of him only to be pulled away last second. Oswald looked back up at Fries, Bridgit, and Ivy. These were friends he had started to consider family. He’d be betraying them if he were to go crawl back to Ed in this state. They had protected him for this long, if Ed killed him while he was off guard their efforts would have been for nothing. It was a shame he didn’t have much of a conscious in those matters.

 

“One week,” Oswald says with his eyes locked on Fries momentarily. “I want one week with him like this. Then I’ll…we can bring back the other Ed somehow.”

 

Fries sighs, but his expression softens. “Your funeral.”

 

Ivy speaks up, “Um not to break the good mood and all but what are we going to do about The Criminal?” Oswald breath catches in his throat.

 

Will all the thought about Ed, he had completely forgotten. “We can still use Ed. Just because he’s lost his memory doesn’t mean he’s lost his intelligence,” Oswald suggested.

 

“Didn’t you say he was a big old softie at one point? Are you sure he’s in the right mindset to help you bring down a criminal mastermind?” Ivy questions. Oswald smirks.

 

His Ed would never turn down a deal like this. Soft or otherwise, Oswald knew the type of freak that lied deep beneath the layers that fabricated Ed’s mind. One of passion for criminality, of murder, of _attention_. Oswald cleared his throat and absent-mindedly straightened his tie and brushed his hair to the side lightly with two fingers.

 

“I’m going to go speak with him. Prepare him for our plans.” Ivy took a step forward as if she was offering her help. Oswald shook his head. “I’m doing this alone. I’ll be fine. His memory loss isn’t going to fade in a matter of minutes. As long as I don’t say or do anything that might trigger…well we’ll just have to see.”

 

Fries’ expression hardened but he nodded and led Ivy and Bridgit over to the bucket so they could clean up the lounge for later customers. Oswald took a deep breath and knocked on his bedroom door before entering. Edward swerves around from the drawers he was looking through as if he was caught red-handed. Always the curious creature.

 

“Mr. Penguin, I’m-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to snoop I just…” Was Ed blushing? He finds himself smiling. Hell, if Oswald couldn’t get used to _this._ He shakes his head.

 

“It’s okay, Ed. Call me Oswald.”

 

“Os…wald,” Ed said testing out the name on his tongue. It seemed he liked it. There was no reflection of the man he had seen a few months ago. There was no dark twinge in his eyes conveying danger. Oswald wanted to talk to him, be friendly. There was a part of him that wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel the love of his life reciprocating such a touch.

 

There was a stirring of guilt in his stomach that told him this was wrong, that he was just using Ed. But he had to remind himself Ed, _his_ Ed, didn’t deserve pity.

 

He supposed this was revenge in and of itself. Letting Edward make a fool of himself before reminding him of who he truly is. Yet, deep down Oswald knew this was just him being selfish.

 

“Let me explain your situation,” Oswald gestures for Ed to sit down on the bed with him. Oswald wastes not time telling him about the Criminal and his current reign on the city. He earns a few wide-eyed expressions, and eager twitching fingers.

 

He tells Edward Kristen is dead but he doesn’t tell Ed how, and Ed doesn’t ask. He sits there in a quiet shock for a while, eyes watering but never spilling over. Oswald wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t have been able to love him, not in the way he did but he knew he couldn’t.

 

Edward takes a few minutes to think the loss over, and he attempts to straighten up and change the subject.

 

“Does the GCPD know I’m working for you right now?” Ed asked with a sniffle. Oswald smiles.

“Yes. I’ve contacted them.” The truth was the GCPD probably thought Ed was dead. Oswald hadn’t seen any cops of importance stroll into his lounge. Jim Gordon probably had no idea Nygma had been frozen in a sculpture of ice all this time. Oswald made up another little story about how he ended up in a box of water, and surprisingly Ed believed him. Very naïve. But then again, Oswald was a good liar.

 

“You don’t know how thrilled I am to be working with you, Mr. Peng- Oswald.” Ed’s grin was toothy and wide and full of life as he stretched out his fingers on his knees. “I follow your work in Gotham’s underworld on a constant basis.”

 

Oswald’s lashes fluttered as Ed continued his praise. “I think you’re just… _fascinating_. Do you believe in fate?” A jittery and curious hand moved to Oswald’s leg and Oswald heard his own breath hitch. _Don’t get excited you fool._

 

He moved to stand suddenly feeling out of breath. “I do,” he mutters and hobbles towards his drawers to look at the knife that first brought them together all those months ago; it felt like it had been years. Oswald stroked a finger over the cool blade.

 

“So I assume you’re prepared to break the law?” Oswald asked, avoiding eye contact. Each time he looked he wanted to bury his face into Ed’s neck and have those long arms wrap around him. Love was still making him weak and he was ready to chastise himself for having such thoughts again when Ed finally responded.

 

“May I confess, and only because I think it will impress you…I’ve actually killed a man. One man. Perhaps not as many as you, but I’ll learn.” Oswald’s head snapped to the side.

 

“Oh?” So Ed had already killed Dougherty in his timeline. Getting him to help take down the Criminal wasn’t going to be the arduous task he feared it would be.

 

“Wow. That feels _so_ good to say out loud,” Ed echoes words he’s spoken from the past and laughs whole-heartedly. Oswald feels his chest ache again. “I was actually hoping someday soon I’d run into you. Like the butterfly I know I can’t become a caterpillar once again. I wanted to speak with you…well, so you could help guide me on this new path.” Edward was standing. When had he stood up?

 

He was closer to Oswald than the former kingpin had sensed just seconds ago. Ed was looking down at him expectantly, as if looking for an answer. Oswald gripped the dresser in front of him and forced himself to look up into Edward’s eyes. Soft, unguarded, innocent, open-hearted.  Oswald swallowed feeling a rush of affection surge through his veins. Love that he thought he’d buried long ago divulged itself and before he knew it he was pulling Ed in for a hug, hooking his chin over Ed’s shoulder.

 

The familiar scent of Edward Nygma filled his nose and he dug his nails into the soft flesh of his old friend’s back. _Edward, Edward, Edward._

 

Ed’s hands quickly flew to his back, rubbing in circles and prodding lightly. Oswald’s nerve endings all felt alight. A simple hug was making him weak in the knees and Ed, Ed wasn’t even _Ed_. This was fake. Ed pulled away far too quickly with a nervous smile. “You don’t seem like a hugger.”

 

Oswald huffs in agreement, because in any other circumstance, he’s _not_.

 

“But I’m not complaining,” Ed says with a flirtatious tilt of his head. Oswald did miss this immensely. Before Isabella had been in the picture, there was constant flirting, constant endearment. It’s why he had fallen in love. To be told he was cared about and adored by the man he had thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with after just a few short days spent in the mansion.

 

“I’m sorry that was out of line,” Oswald says softly. “Later, I want you to speak with the others about The Criminal. We need you to solve the puzzles we’ve received.”

 

Ed nodded. “This is so exciting!”

 

Oswald chuckled, “You think so?”  


Ed nodded rapidly. Oswald wondered momentarily if this was a trick to throw him off guard. Some sort of foul play. Ed knew him just as well as Oswald knew himself if not better. He knew that playing this part could weaken him. Oswald figured Ed would have found a weapon in his bedroom already to take him down. Another part of him just wanted to forget any and all possibility of that.

 

_Enjoy him while he lasts._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The thing was, Oswald hadn’t expected Ed to figure out the puzzles so quickly. Of course, he had learned a multitude of nuances about his dear old friend since Ed’s story of the Gordian knot and the puzzle box he had gifted him in Arkham. Ed had the intelligence of a ten-mile-long computer.

 

The lives of any more of his (questionably expendable) lackeys had been spared because of Edward Nygma. _The Criminal_ had been discovered in his hideaway at 706 Grundy just a few blocks down the road. Oswald would have gladly reveled in the expressions The Criminal had most likely made as he was being hauled away by gruff police forces, wondering which one of Oswald’s crew had figured out his ‘oh so difficult’ riddles.

 

It had only taken a matter of two days, of which Oswald had spent away from Ed in an effort to give him space. The speed at which he worked had been outstanding, coming into the living room only a couple days later, holding a notebook paper with all the answers written out in a cohesive order. Fries and Bridgit had exchanged impressed glances, but Ivy had looked to Oswald. It was as if she was asking, _“What are you going to do with him now? Are you still going to keep him for a week?”_

 

And Oswald knew how risky it was, of course he knew.

 

Oswald had trouble staying calm. He had a choice now. Freeze Ed again as soon as possible or choose to wait until Ed returned to himself to do it. It was obvious the latter wasn’t the best option. But for him, it was the option he wanted, and he had a hard time denying himself what he wanted.

 

He was at the bar in his lounge allowing Bridgit to pour him a drink. Ivy had her arms crossed across the room.

 

“You’re gonna use him like he’s a toy or something? A pet? He’s going to remember at some point. Then he’ll probably be madder at you than he was before for faking all this. Just freeze him and it’ll be over and done with,” she starts.

 

“It’s not that simple,” Oswald responds taking a large sip of his drink.

 

“It’s more simple than you’re allowing yourself to believe, Pengy.” He grumbles at the nickname. “You were miserable fighting him months back, do you want to be miserable again?”

 

“There’s a different between miserable and saving my own hide. I was merely protecting my assets. But now, I feel like if I can just allow myself a sliver of time with him-”

 

“Then what?” Ivy snaps. Oswald’s not sure he’s heard her get so violent. He doesn’t look up from his drink. “You’ll just allow yourself to be weak again? You said you wouldn’t make that mistake again. You need to remind yourself what’s important, and put him back in the ice. For all of our sakes.”

 

Oswald hisses in response, slamming his glass down. “I think you’re forgetting who makes the rules around here, Ivy.”

 

Ivy narrows her eyes. He continues, “I’ll do what pleases me. That’s final.”

  
“He’ll always be your weakness, Oswald. Whether you realize it or not,” she storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

 

“Kids,” Fries mumbles, wiping down his gun with a cloth. He was seated at the bar with Oswald a few stools away. “Nora and I were only going to have one if we could’ve.”  


“I don’t think about kids,” Oswald says, “Ever. Plus I got Ivy. She’s about ten kids packed into one.”

 

“Even if you had ended up with Nygma you wouldn’t have considered adoption maybe? What if _he_ had wanted kids?” Fries questions with a tilt of his head. Oswald finds himself at a loss. Normally he would have snapped at being asked such a personal question, but he was too exhausted for anger to boil inside of him.

 

He had never considered that far into the future when he was ready to confess his feelings. He knew Ed’s preferences for the most part but there had still been many things he had found himself in the dark about. His childhood, his life before working at the GCPD. Oswald takes another sip of his drink.

 

And the life of villains wasn’t for children.

 

“I know he doesn’t like kids.”

 

“How?” Fries asks. The ghost of a smile creeps onto Oswald’s face.

 

“I remember when I was Mayor and he was still my Chief of Staff we both had to attend a festival in the Gotham City’s Central Park. It was mostly an event for the kids, so their parents could all sit back and watch them pull each other’s pigtails and scream incessantly about things that don’t matter. I had to make a speech before this whole big pointless raffle took place. And I did. It was just formal stuff and I was looking forward to getting back home as quickly as possible, with Ed. Once I was finished, Ed and I stopped to grab some festival food. Wasn’t our usual preference but we thought one hot dog in our lives wouldn’t hurt.”

 

Freeze watches intently, with Bridgit now listening in. Oswald didn’t talk much about his time with Ed before everything went south. And now in this moment he was as open as a book. He was just the right amount of sober and drunk. Content wasn’t an aspect of himself he was familiar with, but it racked him body and soul in this moment.

 

“While we were eating, Ed started talking about the kids playing right near us being as brainless as maggots,” Oswald chuckles, reminiscent. “It wasn’t imagery I was most fond of while trying to eat. He told me one thing about his childhood and it was about how a kid at school once called him a smart-ass, so he put few thumbtacks on the kid’s school chair the next day. Ed told me he never appreciated the immaturity of a child’s mind.”

 

“Even though he was once a child?” Bridgit questions with a quirked brow.

 

Oswald laughs, “I think he’d debate that he ever was.” Swallowing he adds, “Well aside from that story, it isn’t hard to see the look of repulsion on his face when he’s in a room of grimy, sticky-fingered, kids.”

 

He takes another sip of his drink, starting to feel a tad light-headed. “You two can lock up for tonight. I think I’m going to stay here.”

 

“There’s only one room here,” Fries noted.

 

“I know, I know. I’m letting Ed use it. I just want to sleep on the couch, or stay up, whichever option suits me,” Oswald says. Fries and Bridgit stand still, looking at each other before Oswald slams his glass down on the countertop. “Do I need to make that an order?”

 

Bridgit shook her head and Fries sighs, followed her out. Oswald could hear the click of the door on their way out the front. He pours himself another glass, mesmerized by the maroon liquid filling to the peak of the cup.

 

“Oswald?” a voice asks softly after he had downed half the drink. He tenses and turns around to see Ed in the golden and black robe. Oswald’s breath hitches and he turns back to face the wall of booze. Realizing that was rude and not the right gesture to make, he forces himself to turn back around and make eye contact. “I heard yelling.”

 

“Nothing to concern yourself with,” Oswald says, inwardly praying Ed hadn’t overheard the subject matter of the conversation. He needed to be more careful.

 

Ed stutters, “I’m, um, sorry I hope you don’t mind me using this robe? You told me it’d be best to stay here over night, but all my things are over at my apartment.”

_No, they’re not. They’re either in the mansion or at the Sirens, or wherever else you’ve been lurking around this city_ , Oswald thinks.

 

“I don’t mind at all,” Oswald pulls a smile and sets an empty glass next to him gesturing for Ed to sit. “You look ravishing.”

 

Ed’s cheeks glow and he makes his way over awkwardly with his hands at his sides and sits down beside him. “I don’t drink…” Ed pauses. “Often.”

 

“Water?”

 

“If you would.”

 

Oswald reaches behind the bar for the sink and plops a sphere of ice into a new glass of tap water. “Water is water. It saves money.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Ed smiles around the rim of the cup. “I’m very grateful for your generosity these past few days, Mr. Penguin.”

 

“Oswald,” the kingpin winces.

 

“Oswald,” Ed idly corrects himself. The two sit in silence for a while, and Oswald held back on his drink so he didn’t look like a monster downing it in only a couple of swigs. He started to wonder what kind of thing would trigger Ed to come back to himself. The word ‘Isabella’? Or maybe just ‘Isabelle’ with Ed’s compulsive need to fix what’s wrong.

 

Perhaps something subtler would work. Perhaps if he could confess his love again, Edward Nygma ‘The Riddler’ would break out of this amnesiac prison in a storm of rage. Oswald snorted at the thought.

 

Ed perked up at his laugh. Oswald tenses and steadies himself. “So, do you still want me to be your ‘guide’?”

 

A wave of excitement washes over Ed’s expression and his eyelashes flutter. “Yes, please.”

 

Oswald stands and straightens his suit jacket. “Fortunately for you I’ve ordered a meal to be delivered by hand here and it should be arriving in a matter of minutes.” Oswald had planned to eat dinner alone tonight, or even with Ed once he offered. But, if he could have fun with Ed, tonight would be even better. “I want you to kill him with me, the delivery man.”

 

“What did he do to you?” Ed questions, aghast.

 

Oswald chuckles, taking out a blade from sock, and handing it to Ed by the end. He takes it without hesitation. “I doubt either of us know him.”

 

Ed blinks, “Then why-”

 

“Rule number one,” Oswald says sternly hobbling close enough he could feel Ed’s breath on his lips. “Even if the cause is miniscule, killing is _always_ an option. You don’t need to have a vendetta out on every person you kill, because that would make you weak,” he jabs a finger lightly into Ed’s chest.

 

Oswald reaches for his own blade on the inside of his suit. “Killing should be personal without being… _interpersonal_. If it’s for your benefit, might as well do it. The benefit tonight is…training you. Understand?”

 

Ed nods, his eyes glossy and eager. Oswald smiles softly at him before recalling himself. “Second rule, dispense of your morality now unless you know for sure you can slice a man’s throat without resistance.”

 

“That won’t be a problem,” Ed challenges, taking a step forward shortening the distance between their faces. Their noses were almost touching. Oswald wondered what Ed would do if he leaned in to kiss him. He doesn’t take that opportunity as much as it tempted him. This was about murder, and if Ed remembered who he was before their Chinese takeout even arrived, this victim they were meant to slaughter was about to walk into one big war.

 

“I’ve killed before, Oswald.” Ed reminds. Oswald takes a few steps back and circles around the bar running a finger over the smooth marble counter top.

 

“Killing one man doesn’t desensitize you to a life of crime. _But_ , I know that you’ll be able to do this easily. You’re a very bright, and ambitious man Mr. Nygma.”

 

Ed’s hands tightened into fists at the compliments, trying not to be too delighted.

 

“I hope you like Chinese,” Oswald says with a smirk. He knew Ed did.

 

Ed smiles, taking a few steps towards the bar, “How did you know?”

 

“I’m intuitive,” Oswald says. Perhaps he was getting too cocky. Chinese takeout could stir up old memories of their time at his apartment together. But it was just food, right?

 

There was a firm knock at the door.

 

Oswald looked to Ed. “Rule three. Make sure you’re a damn fine actor.” He waddles over to the door and opens it, greeting the man with the fakest smile he’s ever mustered, and generously allowing him inside. Ed had hidden the knife behind his back, and Oswald kept his own hidden in his sleeve.

 

The man set the two bags of takeout on the countertop, and turned to Oswald who paid him in cash. He could just recollect once the deed was done. Oswald blocked the man’s pathway to the exit.  “Tell me sir, what is your name?”

 

The man swallowed nervously. He seemed to recognize the kingpin, but probably thought he wouldn’t be harmed here. He was just a delivery man after all.

 

“Leonard.”

 

Oswald nearly drops his dagger. “Leonard,” he repeats in a whisper. It wasn’t possible. The coincidence was uncanny. He couldn’t see Edward behind the man, he’s too big. Oswald has stilled eyes moving side to side as he processed this, hoping that Ed’s memory gears weren’t starting to shift.

 

“Yes, _I’m Leonard_. I-” the man choked out a sudden pained gasp. There had been an accompanying penetrative sound. Had Ed stabbed him? Blood started to pool on Leonard’s tongue, but he stood standing.

 

The next move was swift, and all Oswald could do was stand and watch in shock. Ed moved in with his spindly fingers, and wrapped both arms around Mr. Leonard serpent-like, snapping the man’s neck. He felt time slow down as Leonard fell to the floor.

 

The deathly _thump_ of the body hitting the ground sent a shiver down Oswald’s spine. He looked back up to find Ed staring at him, eyes almost bloodshot in the light, red dripping from where it had splattered across the robe.

 

“Oswald,” his voice had deepened a grim octave. Oswald felt his throat tighten at Ed’s sharp gaze. It kept him paralyzed.

 

“ _I remember_.”


	2. Put Your Love Hand Out, Darling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Oswald have to figure out how to deal with Ed gaining his memories back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is more Graphic Violence and there is smut in this chapter. Just a warning!

Edward leans down to grab the knife from Leonard’s back and Oswald, mesmerized, watches the blood splatter up when the knife is ripped from the dead man’s flesh. Oswald finally breaks free of his paralyzed state and unsheathes his dagger from his sleeve.

Ed’s eyes blaze under the dim light, and he stalks forward. Oswald backs up, and raises the knife to Ed. They opt to circle each other like vultures, moving in a clockwise motion. None of them said a word, preparing for whoever would attempt to make the first move.

Oswald found himself smiling now. He knew it wouldn’t have lasted long. He was never allowed too much of a good thing, and Edward had always been the proof of that. Here he was now, his nemesis, the _Riddler_ , hunched over and ready to strike like a serpent in the night.

“What was your game plan Oswald? Why play along while I was at my weakest point? Why not just kill me?  Or freeze me once I benefited you?” Ed finally spoke and Oswald mourned the high-pitched puppy-like companion he had been accompanied by only minutes beforehand.

He was gone now.

“You ask too many questions, _Riddler_.” Oswald hisses and juts out his dagger just slightly. Ed leaps back and his smile grows wider. This was a game to him.

“None that you can answer, _Penguin_?” Ed asks, pathetically swinging at Oswald who growled and leered back. Ed raised his eyebrows expecting a response.

Oswald didn’t answer. The truth was something he didn’t want Ed knowing. He had allowed himself weakness. And he had loved every second of it. He’d never admit to that.

“What’s wrong, Nygma? Don’t you want to make the first move?” Oswald sneers, eyes drawn to the blood coating his robe, _their_ , robe. Oh, how _intimate_.

Ed smiles, different this time, he straightens up and stops moving in their choreographed predatorial circle. Oswald stops moving too with narrows eyes, and watches Ed raise his knife up above his head and open his hand. The knife falls and the tip punctures the floor.

Oswald’s eyelashes fluttered in confusion. “I’m not going to kill you,” Ed states simply. Oswald grips the handle of his dagger tighter to keep from shaking.

“What the hell do you mean you’re not going to kill me?” he snaps.

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

“ _Yes_.”

“I don’t want to kill you Oswald, not anymore,” Edward says. Oswald can see he’s being genuine or at least trying to be. He knew that look in Ed’s eyes. It wasn’t predatory or hostile, it was _Ed_ , and he was telling the truth. Of course, he couldn’t allow himself to believe it. Ed was also a good actor.

“No, _Riddler_. Your point, your only _purpose_ , is to kill me. Without me dead, you’re nothing. You’re still that jittery forensic boy I met in the GCPD. You said it yourself, killing me changed you, and with me still alive you’ll never change!” Oswald could feel his face burning up red with rage, but he thought perhaps there was something else boiling up in him that he couldn’t quite place.

“It’s Ed. Edward Nygma. It’s always been Edward Nygma to you, Oswald.” Ed says this softly, as if they both share a secret. Oswald finds himself shaking against his better judgement, and he drops the knife in his hand with a reluctant growl, until it’s parallel with the other knife in the floor only a few feet away.

Ed smiles as if he’s won a battle. It makes Oswald’s stomach churn.

“Will you freeze me again?” Ed asks. His expression betrays nothing of his true intent. Caught off guard, Oswald finds himself trying to stammer out an answer.

“O-Of course I will. The fact that …that you would believe I’d gift you your freedom after everything you’ve done is preposterous. I just needed you to help me, and you have, with your oh so _graciously_ provided intelligence.” Oswald tried his best to sound in control, but it was hard when Ed stared at him so confidently, so _sure_ of himself.

“Victor Fries won’t be returning until tomorrow,” Ed took a step forward, closing the gap between just so. Against his better judgement, Oswald’s heart started to race.

“I can call him,” Oswald sputters.

“Is he that loyal?” Ed tilted his head. Oswald knew Ed was right. Victor didn’t always come at his beck and call. In fact, he usually didn’t; that had been apparent when Ed tracked Oswald down in his safe houses and Victor still didn’t show. The chances Victor would turn around and head back to the lounge for him were exceedingly slim.

Ed sighed. “Anyhow, we have until tomorrow till he returns. Until then…” Edward takes another step closer.

Oswald bares his teeth. “I’ve been known to snap necks,” he says, “Quite efficiently I might add.”

“And I’ve been known to choke people to death until they’re purple in the face and begging for mercy,” Ed whispers. For some reason Oswald remains motionless as Ed’s fingers find their way to his neck, and stroke firmly, never pressing in too hard.

Oswald felt a shiver run down his spine. Ed had a way with words, and he was still feeling relatively weak from his earlier, more _innocent_ , interactions with Ed just minutes ago. Fortunately for him, Ed tugged his hand away, and Oswald still felt the ghost of his fingers brushing at his throat. “What’s your game here, Ed?” Oswald asks, eyes half lidded as he lets Ed tilt his chin up with a finger.

“I want to convince you not to freeze me.”

Oswald tenses, feeling his drained anger start to return. “Convince?”

Ed nods and leans down to kiss Oswald gently on the cheek. His lips were soft and warm and Oswald was sure his cheeks were burning a dark rose color when Ed ghosted his lips down to his jaw. _How the hell was he doing this?_

“Sweet talk won’t buy your way out,” Oswald reluctantly pushed Ed back a step. Ed had a very irritating smirk plastered on his lips.

“But it’s not doing any harm,” Ed says.

“Your affectionate advances won’t impinge me. I told you long ago that I would not make _this_ mistake ever again. I need you as a reminder of that,” Oswald responds darkly.

Ed sucks in his cheeks, looking for a moment, defeated. Then he moves forward again, in reaching distance. With a soft, smile, Ed starts to lower himself down onto one knee, and then two.

Oswald’s jaw drops open. “I…Ed what are you…”

“Is this what you want?” Ed jeers. His round brown eyes look up to the Penguin expectantly.

“I, _you_ -” Oswald flails unsure of what to do.

“For me to beg?”

 _Oh_. Oswald lets out a relieved sigh, and feels the heat in his cheeks start to fade. Beg? A few months ago, he might have reveled in it, but he wasn’t so sure that now-

He felt Ed dig his nails into the fabric bunched around Oswald’s knees as those familiar round eyes stared up at him. “You were right.”

“About what?” Oswald asked, breathing heavy.

“A lot of things, Ozzie.” _Ozzie_. Why wasn’t he getting mad? He could beat Ed to a pulp right here and now. What was stopping him? Why didn’t he want to? “But…love wasn’t a weakness Oswald. That was your strongest aspect,” Ed’s eyes trail down Oswald’s small body. “Your weakness was jealousy.”

Ed looks mournful for a moment, but he buries it.

“That is in the past, I don’t want to kill you, you don’t want to kill me. We can move forward,” Ed locks his eyes on Oswald’s again, “I’m much more valuable to you living and breathing here than I am in that icy cage.”

“You’re just trying to save your hide,” Oswald reasons.

“Well maybe so, but I am genuine when I say I have no intension of harming you ever again. You duped me. I want…I want to work by your side again.”

Oswald stares down at him and something suddenly clicks. He raises his foot and pushes Ed firmly enough so he falls on his ass, elbows propping him up on the floor. Edward watches Oswald languidly stroll behind the bar and return with his cane. A dark smile creeps up onto his lips and he prods the cane into the Riddler’s chest, and then raises it to his chin, keeping his face tilted up at him.

“ _That doesn’t look like begging to me_ ,” Oswald says in a hushed tone. There is something playful to his tone that Ed seems to soon pick up on. The truth was, both of them loved a good game.

He clasps his hands around the end of the cane, almost in prayer as his eyes glisten up at his former mentor. “Please, Mr. Penguin, sir. I want you,” Oswald closes his eyes and revels in those words before he continues. “I want you back in my life. We’re stronger together. You know that, I know it. _We_ know it.”

 

If Oswald didn’t know better, he’d think Edward’s cheeks looked flushed, his lips a darker shade of pink than per usual. But, it was probably just the light. He trails his cane down Ed’s chest and the brings it back to his side to support his own leg. “Up. You’re only doing this to feed my ego.”

Edward stands like an obedient dog, not denying the accusation.

“I don’t trust you,” Oswald states, expecting reassurance but he doesn’t get it.

“I wouldn’t trust me either.” Oswald sighs and Ed speaks again, “What can I do to earn your trust?”

“It’s going to take a long time for me to even think about…” Oswald’s halted rubbing his temples. “ _Unless_.” He hobbles over to a locked closet in the corner of the room. Ed watches him unlock it with a key from his pocket. There were miscellaneous items that didn’t match each other or didn’t even seem to belong in a closet, but Oswald grabbed a small green vile and locked the closet doors again. “It’s astounding I never thought to use it on you before.”

Ed looks nervous. Oswald screws off the cap and brings Ed to the couch near the bedroom door. “Relax,” Oswald says trying to get comfortable. “It’s basically a truth serum.”

“I don’t know if I’m-” Ed started but Oswald raised a hand.

“Do you want to stay unfrozen?” he asked with a threat in his voice.

Ed swallowed, “What are you going to ask?”

“Whatever I damn well please, Edward.” Oswald sprays the perfume on his wrist, and rubs it into both, extending an arm to Ed who leans down to take whiff.

For a moment, Ed emits almost a yellow glow and Oswald realizes this is _his_ first time using it on someone else. He always got Ivy to do it, and he hadn’t even asked about the function of this gunk, if he was even _able_ to use it. But Ed seemed in a trance, so his plans were going accordingly.

Experimentally, Oswald reaches out a hand and brushes the backside of it against Ed’s cheek. “Kiss it.” Like a gentleman, Ed takes Oswald’s hand gently and pressed his soft lips to his knuckles. Oswald pulled his hand away with a smirk. He wasn’t going to tell him about that one when he was roused from this spell. “Were you telling the truth when you said you no longer wanted to kill me?”

“Yes,” Ed answers distantly. Oswald sits there in shock. He finds himself standing up and pacing slowly in front of Ed. So, he didn’t want to kill him. What was his game plan with trying to work with Oswald? Well, it’d be just as good to ask him.

“What do you wish to gain by working by my side again?”

“Your trust.” Oswald narrowed his eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I think I love you.”

Oswald almost chokes. _No_ , that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Where the hell had that come from? He gazed down at the blank expression on Ed’s face. Oswald started to panic, worrying the effects of the perfume would wear off soon. “Since when have you thought this?” he asks.

“Since we met,” Ed states.

Oswald gapes. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“If you love me why did you try _to kill me_!?” Oswald snaps, kicking a stray object on the floor violently as opposed to taking it out on his former partner.

“I _think_ I love you. I’ve never been in love before. Kristen was an infatuation and Isabella was a delirium. I was scared. I was mortified. Loving you back meant betraying everything I was, am, and who I thought I was supposed to be with.”

Oswald felt tears in his eyes and he pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose to keep himself calm. He needed to keep wringing the truth out of him, until time ran out. “Are you scared now about all that now?”

“No.”

Oswald looked up. “Why not?”

“I underestimated you. You proved me wrong at the docks more than once. And...I obsessed over killing you to the point of me forgetting how miserable I was without you. You’re a part of me. I realize that now.”

“You were miserable without me?” Oswald asks, dumbfounded. He’d imagined Ed sitting in his room on nights laughing over pictures from their past, maybe even burning them in the fire. Or talking to Barbara and his crew about how much he hated Oswald Cobblepot.

“I took drugs so I could hallucinate you,” Ed confesses.

Oswald’s jaw goes slack, but before he can say anything he sees Ed blink a few times and sit up _. Damn_. A thick shield flies back up and Ed smiles up at him. “Did I say anything interesting?”

All predilection of logic and his moral standpoint are ripped from him like they were never his to begin with and Oswald lunges at Ed, falling into his lap, and throwing his arms around Ed’s neck. He feels himself shaking and pressing his teary-eyes into Ed’s neck.

Ed feels entirely tense under him and Oswald can hear him struggling to form a sentence. “You really meant everything you said,” Oswald whimpers. “You don’t want me dead.”

“ _Ah_.” Ed hugs him back finally, letting his arms slump around Oswald’s waist. “In complete honestly Oswald, I never…wanted you dead. I…convinced myself I wanted you dead, but…” he trails off. “I never told you this but when you were gone I-”

“Took pills to see me?” Oswald asks with a breathy chuckle.

Ed frowned and pushes his friend back slightly so he can consider his expression. “Just exactly how much did I say to you just now?”

“Enough,” Oswald smiles.

Ed smiles back, “Your mood changed entirely. I like this perfume more than I thought I would. I thought I was going to have to do hard labor for at least three months, feed Ivy’s plants, maybe write a ten-page essay on why you’re the best person in Gotham, which would have been arduous since we _obviously_ loathe each other.”

Oswald’s cheeks puffed out in amusement. “I haven’t forgiven you for everything mister.”

“Hey, I haven’t forgiven you either,” Ed grumbles back.

Oswald takes in a breath, hoping the word “Isabella” is never muttered in their lifetimes ever again. “I want to forget everything,” he says

“What?”

“We both did terrible things to each other. But I know I can trust you, you can trust me now that I’ve freed you from the ice. Who’s to say we can’t move forward?” Oswald says.

“So love isn’t a weakness for you anymore?” Ed asks, concerned. “You changed your mind really fast.”

Oswald becomes self-aware he’s still sitting in Ed’s lap, and he moves off him to sit beside him on the couch. Oswald smiles at Ed’s question. “I agree with what you told me. It wasn’t love that destroyed us it was jealousy. But I think in some way what happened, made us both stronger.”

“I suppose,” Ed mumbled. Oswald would have thought this was the last place he’d be tonight. On good terms with the Riddler himself.

“The question is, how are we going to consummate this newfound partnership?” Oswald asked. Standing up he reaches out a hand to Ed and delights in seeing his friend’s cheeks turn pink. He takes Oswald’s hand and allows himself to be hauled up onto two feet.

Oswald waddles over to where the two daggers are stuck in the floorboards. He tugs at both, and hands the bloodied one to Ed, gripping the other in his fingers. Ed looks up at him with wide-eyes, almost paralleling earlier when ‘Mr. Penguin’ had been teaching his pupil how to properly kill.

“If it’s true we make each other stronger, let’s go see what kind of havoc the _Riddler_ and the _Penguin_ can cause on the streets of Gotham City,” Oswald suggests with a lick of his lips.

Ed’s eyes light up and he feels a rush of electricity in his veins at his name finally not being used sardonically by his best friend. 

 

* * *

 

Moments after Ed had changed into his green suit from the bloodied robe, Oswald was already halfway ahead of him to leave the lounge.

“Oswald, wait,” Ed almost shouted when Oswald was huddled by the front door. He swerved around to meet a heated gaze he wasn’t familiar with. “What-”

In a rush, Edward swoops in and presses his lips to Oswald’s. The smaller man jumps at the spark between him, and is surprised at himself at how quickly he allows Ed’s tongue to slip in, mingling with his. The taste was foreign, but intoxicating and he found his hands trailing up Ed’s suit lapels, dragging him in closer. “ _Oh, Ed,_ ” his breathes against his lips.

Oswald feels Ed’s firm chest heaving against his own.

“You don’t have to believe me, but,” Ed leaves sloppy kisses down his neck, “I’ve been wanting to touch you like this for-fucking- _ever_.”

“I know, you told me,” Oswald says and gives a nasally snicker.

Edward’s mouth formed into a flatline. “You do know asking about that sort of stuff while I was under the influence isn’t exactly principled.”

“Okay, first off Edward, I’m not the type of man who has many principles and if I do they aren’t always the good kind.” He pushes Ed off him. “And _two_ , you’ve never been exactly _clear_ on this sort of thing. First you tell me you’d do anything for me, and then show up 12 hours late to our dinner date. Then you tell me you don’t love me before shooting me and dumping me in a river, and then confess that you think you love me under a truth serum which, if I might add, I didn’t even provoke the answer for.”

Edward stands there for a moment before saying, rather childishly, “But you still love me.”

Oswald scowls and exits the lounge, Ed shadowing him. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean anything.”

He hears a soft laugh from behind him and smiles. It had been moments since they kissed, but Oswald wanted his mouth back on him as soon as possible. Soon enough. He paused until Ed caught up with him, and he interlocked their fingers. “Let’s give Gotham something to talk about.”

 

* * *

 

“ _Cobblepot_!” Victor’s bellowing voice echoed through the lounge. Oswald woke with a start, his memory fuzzy and his eyes unfocused. He felt the warm heat of a body next to him. Ed… They were both covered in blood and half undressed from their suits; Oswald could feel the blood and sweat causing his shirt to stick to him like another layer of skin. Wait.

_Blood._

Before Oswald could panic, the memories of the night before rushed back to him. They had killed multiple people, one of which had been a fraud insurance company owner Oswald had talked with in many socialite parties when he had been mayor. Another had been a smart street dweller who scowled at them for not giving him money. Big mistake. Ed drove the knife into the man’s ear, while Oswald gutted him like a fish. The other victims would come back to him later, for now, he found himself struggling to climb out of bed and onto his two feet. When he raised himself up, a searing pain ran through his bad leg.

“Damn,” he grumbled. He must have strained it the night before. Victor breaks into his bedroom and glowers at the display, Ed sleeping peacefully beside the kingpin.

Victor was holding a newspaper in his hand. He slammed it down on to the bed which finally woke Ed. Oswald signaled for him not to speak quite yet. “What the hell is this?” Victor accused.

Oswald gripped the paper with a tired hand and read it over.

‘The Riddler and the Penguin go on a disturbing, romantic, murder spree throughout Gotham City, slaughtering five men.’

“ _That_ many?” Oswald says, squinting. He was sure it was just three or four.

“This is bad for business,” Victor stated. “Especially with you eating face with one of your oldest arch enemies.”

Oswald looked at the picture of him and Ed on the front page of the paper, kissing, and covered in blood over a dead body. He might have to cut it out and frame it. “Not it’s not bad for business,” Oswald says simply, laying the paper flat on the bureau beside him. “Actually, _fear_ makes people more likely to visit the lounge. It’s good to remind the people who I am. Publicity is publicity, good or bad.”

“You want to explain to me what’s going on?” Victor asks, pointing to Ed. Ed rolls his eyes as if he’s in the presence of someone with the intelligence level of a child.

“His memories came back. We argued, we kissed, we’re moving forward,” Oswald states with a cheeky smile.

“It only took one night?” Victor asked, disbelieving.

“The Trojan Horse which caused the destruction and downfall of Troy was built by the Greeks in a matter of only three days,” Ed informed.

“No one asked,” Victor griped.

Oswald stood up, able focus much more on his temper than the searing pain in his knee. “I thought I told you who was boss around here Victor. You’re working for me, and I’m helping you. It is none of your business what I do with Ed, what I do in my free time, and it’s most certainly not your place to accuse me of anything.”

Ivy came rushing in and almost toppled over Fries’ large form. “You are faster than you look, Frosty.” This lowered the tension in the room, but Oswald was still standing defiantly in Victor’s path.

“Your perfume did wonders for me and Ed’s…discord,” Oswald praises.

Ivy gasps, “You used my perfume?”

“You used her perfume?” Victor echoes.

“ _Obviously_. I wouldn’t be able to trust him otherwise. And we, _well_ , we decided that we both did a lot of things worth regretting. The rest is history.”

“Love isn’t a weakness,” Ed adds, “or something to fear.”

Victor softens at the mention of love, seeing that both men were genuinely on good terms. He had known how much Oswald cared for Ed. “Gross,” Ivy utters, disgusted. Victor nods at both of them in understanding and tells Oswald doors to the lounge will be opening for guests soon. He drags Ivy out even as she’s grumbling about romance.

 Oswald sits down when they leave and hisses at the strain in his leg. Ed notices and drags him back onto the bed until his legs are fully cushioned.

“How do you want me to stay?” Ed asks gently as he begins to rub tension in Oswald’s leg away. For some reason, he allows him to, never once letting another person touch his wounded leg. It felt good.

“Stay?”

“What do you want me to do? You know I’m good with paperwork,” Ed started but Oswald raised a hand.

“Ed…I don’t think you should work with me here. In fact, I don’t know if we should work together at all,” Oswald says. Ed nearly presses his fingers in too hard at the shock.

“But, everything last night-”

Oswald sits up and takes Ed’s face in his hands and trails them down to his shoulders. “My dear, Ed. As much as I want you here every second of every day, it would be the same as that prison of ice I put you in for months.”

“No, it wouldn’t, it’s not I-”

“Ed, the point is…we _can’t_ be dependent on each other. We tried once and it didn’t work, and the last thing I want is to risk something else breaking us apart, and the both of us becoming miserable yet again, like some cursed cycle. I created this lounge because I finally found a way to let you go. To find strength in myself, and when you were devastated over my loss you became the Riddler, you still found your place becoming who you knew you were supposed to be, without me.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Ed says hiding his disappointment, though he knew Oswald was right.

“Ed, I want to be with you. I’m asking to be with you. But, we need to keep work separate from being _us_. Of course, we can always cross paths on that realm, but we need to be independent to begin with. Do you understand that?”

Ed smiled, his eyes tearing up. Oswald had only ever seen him cry once. At the docks, the first time. A tear had never fallen once after Isabella’s death or any other fleeting moment of sadness. He finally had the ability to wipe the tear clean from his cheek. Ed pressed into Oswald’s soft hand. “You’re so wise,” he said in a half chuckle, half sob.

“And you’re so smart,” Oswald took the opportunity to kiss him on his lips, chaste. Ed takes a moment to process this and takes Oswald’s hands in his, gazing up at him.

“If you want it to be this way, and I agree with you, I think it’s for the best, I’m going to want something in return,” Ed says.

Oswald nods in consideration. “What is it you want?”

“I want to be _more than together_.” Oswald blinked. What was more than together? They had just discussed not being business partners. What more was there?

“You have me,” Oswald says brushing his fingers along Ed’s jaw.

“Not entirely,” Ed stated, taking Oswald’s hands back in his own. “If we are going to be apart, if we’re going to be independent, and yet still together, I want it to be binding. I never want to worry about losing this, what we have. You’re quite possibly the love of my life, Oswald.”

Oswald’s breath hitched and he remembered when he had once called Ed the love of his life. He was still confused as to what Ed was getting at. Ed seemed to note his bewilderment and he got off the bed and onto one knee unceremoniously before him on the rug.

“Are you going to beg again?” Oswald deflected, feeling his heart race at what was bound to happen.

“Depends on the answer you give me,” Ed says nervously. “Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, will you...will you marry me?”

Oswald felt as if his heart had exploded. Every fiber in his body was screaming, hairs standing on end all over his skin. Those words had left Ed’s mouth. He was slack-jawed in awe, unable to form a sound. “Edward Nygma, we only became a couple last night,” he eventually said with a large smile, stretching up to his ears.

“Too fast?” Ed jabbed.

“Way too fast.”

“So is that a yes or…” Ed trailed off.

“Of course it’s a yes, you idiot,” Oswald dragged him up onto the bed by bunching the fabric of his shirt into his fists. “Actually I think this is the best idea you’ve had in years.” They kiss between breaths, slipping their tongues into each other’s mouths. Oswald rolls them until he’s lying flat underneath Ed. The weight of his body was comforting whereas just days ago it would have been mortifying.

“Are you sure? Don’t you remember what we did to the drunkard in the alley last night? Wasn’t _that_ one of my best ideas?” Ed whispered, running a tongue down Oswald’s neck. The warm wetness was causing him to make small noises in his throat, almost like a purr.

“ _Mm_ , enlighten me,” Oswald says, unbuttoning Ed’s shirt with fervor and pulling it down Ed’s shoulders. Ed trailed kisses down Oswald’s chest as he started to expose it with his hands. Their clothes started to disappear quicker than either man could think.

“Well, my first plan was to slice his Achilles tendon so he couldn’t run. Do you remember all the blood?” Ed bit a nipple on his way down Oswald’s chest. 

“ _Ah!_ I-I remember,” Oswald says, his voice breathy and unhinged. Ed smiles.

“Good.” Ed leaned in to press his lips against Oswald’s ear. “Then I straddled him, like this.” Oswald felt Ed’s thighs press down on his hips, “and I slowly rolled my hips.”

Edward was reenacting what he was doing in full, brushing their hardened lengths together until he had Oswald gasping and digging his nails into Ed’s shoulder blades. “I raised my hands to his neck, like so,” Ed whispered bringing his hands to his fiancé’s neck and pressing lightly. Oswald’s eyelashes fluttered, feeling ecstasy pool in his stomach, ready to burn like fire in his veins with every advance Edward was making.

Oswald had no experience, but he was a fast learner.

“And I’m quite positive he enjoyed it,” Ed whispered, pressing a kiss to Oswald’s lips before tightening his grip around Oswald’s neck. He was finally gasping for breath momentarily before Ed let go and Oswald’s face color returned to an ivory white.

He leers up as much as he can despite being weighed down by Ed’s body. “If you had kissed him I might have killed you.”

“Oh, _Please_ ,” Ed drawled, “as if I’d touch that man’s cheap beer-flavored, soot-stained, mouth with ten-foot pole.”

Oswald smiles, chest rising and falling faster than it would after running a marathon. He stumbled and fought with Ed’s fly, but Ed took over and shrugged off his own pants and took no time in ripping the pants off Oswald.

The smaller man yelped when Ed straddled him again. He looked down in between them in awe that they even ended up here. Edward’s length was beautiful, long and pink, and he started to feel self-conscious until Ed began to move. He cried out when Ed rutted forward, not expecting the surge of warmth and pleasure to rack his body.

Ed smiled in bliss and he leaned down again, aligning their chests and intertwining their fingers above their heads. He moved slow against him at first, just to revel in the soft, small, purring noises Oswald was making. He whispered Ed’s name like a mantra.

After a minute or so, holding hands was disregarded as the rubbing of skin on skin became more intense and started to burn like fire. Each time Oswald rolled up his hips to meet Ed’s hardened thrusts, he’d arch back up even further.

Neither of them spoke, allowing the desperate connection of sweaty limbs and hardened cocks all moving together as one to speak for itself. Oswald grappled at Ed’s shoulder blades for purchase as Ed moved faster, biting and sucking at Oswald’s neck.

Nothing that had happened between them in the past months resonated. The desire they had both felt for such a long time had overflowed. There was so much time in the future for fast, hard, slow, anything they’d wish to try, but for both of them now, this was enough.

“ _Ed_ ,” Oswald moaned. “ _Oh_ , I’m, _ah_!”

“I’m close too,” Ed says, voice filled with nothing but lust sent electricity spiraling down into Oswald’s groin, and he squirmed as he felt the tell-tale signs of his impending orgasm building up. Without a second thought, he gripped Ed’s shoulders and flipped him over, changing their position.

Ed was in shock but he allowed it to happen, and threw his head back as Oswald’s hand disappeared between them and started stroking them both in earnest.

“Ozzie,” Ed groaned and he came with a shudder, Oswald feeling the warmth on his hand. He came too after seeing Ed come undone so elegantly beneath him like an angel.

“Eddie,” Oswald moans and leans down to kiss them, as they sway slowly to ride out the rest of their pleasure. Ed grabbed his face with his long fingers and kept him place as they kissed.

“I love you so damn much,” he growled as he started to kiss all around Oswald’s face. Oswald blushed, and allowed himself to be kissed like this, Ed’s saliva from his sloppy kisses mixing with the sweat drenching his body and Ed’s body.

“We should take a shower,” Oswald suggests after resting his head against Ed’s chest. He smelled of blood and musk and it made him feel so warm and comforted. Ed hummed in agreement but neither of them moved.

“That was fantastic,” Ed says with a reminiscent smile. Oswald rolls his eyes affectionately. Ed suddenly jolts up, knocking Oswald off his body. “ _I didn’t get a ring_ ,” he practically yells.  Oswald flinches, pulling himself back up.

“Ed, my love, my dearest. Do you really think I care about getting a ring right away?” he grumbled, trying not to draw attention to their nakedness whilst talking about this subject matter.

Ed looked on the verge of tears which did worry Oswald slightly. “Ed, seriously I don’t mind…”

“It should have been perfect,” he muttered.

Oswald sighs, knowing Ed’s obsessesions with these sorts of things. A thought pops into his mind and he tells Ed to put on his boxers while he puts his own on. He rummages through his drawers until he finds what he’s looking for. It’s a small black box, and he hands it to Ed. “Will this suffice?”

Ed opens it and gapes. It’s a gold band with a small diamond engrained in the middle.

“It’s my mothers,” Oswald explains. “’My father gave it to her after he told her he loved her.”

Ed stares at it, admiring the beauty and the story that went along with it. “Your father…” Ed trailed off, swallowing. “I want you to know that I didn’t actually put him in a dumpster.”

Oswald stayed silent.

“I brought him back to the cemetery and placed him back where he was buried. Back next to Gertrud.” Oswald sucks in a breath.

“I love you,” Oswald whispers, lips quivering. He reaches out a hand and Ed carefully slides the ring onto Oswald’s finger.

It fits perfectly.


End file.
